Parhelion
by Zelda Ophelia
Summary: There were certain expectations of you if you came from certain families with in the Wizarding World.


**Author's note:** Written for yvi for dearsanta.

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There were certain expectations of you if you came from certain families with in the Wizarding World. If you were a Parkinson, it was that you'd marry rich (and often to someone perceived to be above the law). If you were a Bones, it was that you'd work for the Ministry. And if you were a Weasley, it was that you'd get married and have an absurdly large number of children.

Ginny Weasley had never been one to do what others expected of her, starting with the minute she was born a girl instead of a boy. It continued through her years at Hogwarts, never abating even in her adult years. This tendency to defy expectations was why she'd given Harry his ring back, despite every single family member telling her that marriage to him was the best thing she could do. She'd ignored Harry's shocked (but slightly relieved) look, Ron's utter outrage (he didn't speak to her for nearly a year), and Hermione's thoughtfully sympathetic look.

(That had been the worst. She didn't need sympathy from anyone, thank you very much. It may have been difficult but, she'd figured out what was best for her and that didn't include Harry.)

Moving out of the Burrow hadn't been easy, but it had been necessary to find the right perspective. As much as she loved her family (and she did, at least when they were talking to her), she needed space away from them right now. So Ginny found a nice flat just outside of Diagon Alley, in a portion of London where things magical and Muggle intermixed. She turned down the offers from Quidditch teams, knowing they'd focus more on her past than her future, and took a job at a small Wizarding travel magazine. She'd always loved to write (these days she purchased her notebooks at a Muggle stationary shop), and this paid her to travel to a variety of exotic places around the world.

"Exotic locations my arse," she muttered under her breath, as she carefully picked her way over the slippery sheet of ice. She paused for a moment, prudently renewing the warming charm on her winter coat, before looking around again as it took the edge of the chill off and wrinkling her nose. This week "exotic" meant "northern Greenland in January" and she was questioning her editor's sanity. As well as cursing his fore-bearers. While the Northeast Greenland National Park was impressive in its sheer size (It was bigger than the United Kingdom, it was bigger than France. It was bigger than the United Kingdom and France combined!) and the massive amounts of snow and glaciers it contained, she had yet to see why the average wizard or witch would be interested in visiting. Much less visiting in winter, having to bundle up in all their winter clothes and layers of warming charms.

"I came to see the sundogs," Luna said, answering the question Ginny hadn't meant to voice out loud, her breath hanging in frosty clouds on the air. She had accompanied Ginny, seemingly excited at the idea of visiting the park. Or as excited as Luna ever got, her gray eyes wide and the corners of her mouth tipped up in joyful anticipation when Ginny had invited her along. Now she shielded her eyes from the glare of the late afternoon sun to look out over the Greenland Ice Sheet, searching for the sundogs she had come to see as the light breeze tugged at strands of her hair, lifting them to dance on the wind. With her white parka, pale skin, and blond hair, she nearly blended in out here on the ice, rising from the snow like some sort of icy winter sprite.

Ginny, on the other hand, was bright colors and contrast, her red hair and emerald green parka standing out against the pale, frigid landscape. She pulled her scarf, Gryffindor stripes left over from her school days, tighter around her neck as she grabbed Luna's hand and tugged her forward towards their destination. "I hope there's something to see, something other than snow," she said, "or I'll have nothing to write about."

"There's a look out point just over the rise," Luna said, squeezing Ginny's hand as she spoke. "Father and I watched the polar ant migration from it two years ago, the view was perfect for that. We can use the shelter there to warm up while we wait for the sundogs to show."

Several minutes and one rickety-looking building later, they were warm again, even with their coats hanging by the door. The shelter house's warming charms were strong and regularly renewed, and the view afforded them through the huge picture window almost made the trip worth it. She was mentally composing the start of her article as the sun dipped lower on the horizon, and Luna's hand slipped into hers. The air around them was nearly buzzing both with anticipation and magic.

"Here they come," she whispered, her feather light voice echoing in the silent room.

Ginny squeezed her hand, letting Luna's excitement and awe envelope them both, before slipping her arm around Luna's back. Outside the window, the first rays of pink colored the winter sky, reflecting on the ice that covered the land as far as the eye could see. Covering the frosty landscape with a whirlwind of colors, reds and purples and pinks and oranges lighting up the world around them. It was magical in a way that had nothing to do with magic, washing over them both. It was amazing and almost unexpected, but somehow northern Greenland in the dead of winter was exactly where she needed to be right now. She bumped her shoulder against Luna's, grinning at the look she got in return as they slipped into a companionable silence, standing so close together they were touching. Regardless of what everyone else expected of her, this was where she belonged.

Outside the window in front of them, two bright reflections appeared on either side of the sun.


End file.
